


Moment of Truth

by GraceBe



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22953991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceBe/pseuds/GraceBe
Summary: On Mary & Henry's wedding day Isobel & Dickie Merton share a moment of truth... One shot.
Relationships: Isobel Crawley/Richard "Dickie" Grey
Kudos: 13





	Moment of Truth

Mary's wedding to Henry Talbot took place on a beautiful English summer's day. The couple was happy, the family pleased, and the food at the wedding breakfast superb. It could have been an ideal day for everyone, but not every guest was as happy as the bride and the groom.

Isobel Crawley felt rather unhappy with herself, which had little to do with the wedding itself. She was delighted for Mary and Henry and wished them a bright and wonderful future together. They were young and deserved a long and happy life.

The reason for her growing unhappiness was rooted in her relationship with Dickie Merton. She remembered their short exchange in front of the church about Larry and Amelia. He was still hoping she would change her mind about becoming his wife, but she couldn't convince herself to hope. She didn't trust Larry or his fiance. They must have an ulterior motive for offering her an olive branch all of the sudden. When had it all become so complicated?

From her place she had a good look at him. Between flower bouquets and wine glasses she also saw his neighbour at the table. Dickie was sitting next to Lady Shackleton who happened to be the aunt of the groom. Isobel noticed with a trace of bitterness that it was indeed true that every member of the English upper class was related to another one.

Even after all this time of knowing him, she still hadn't understood what the link between Dickie and Prudence Shackleton truly was. As always when he met her Dickie seemed to be pleased about her company. He was usually friendly to everyone, but with this particular woman, it always seemed more than just friendly chatting. She had asked him once about her, but she had never received a sufficient answer from him, which had made her all the more curious. It truly shouldn't bother her, but it did. She considered it a weakness that she felt jealous just because he was talking to another woman.

"Are you weakening?" the Dowager had asked her some time ago and she had fiercely denied it, but the truth was, the more time passed, the more she was unable to keep up her intentions to be nothing more than a friend to him. The distance she had established after the break-up of their engagement had decreased slowly but steadily. One reason for it was their belief in the modernisation of the local hospital, the other one was their mutual attraction to each other. She knew he would marry her on the spot, if she wanted to. It was the reason she tried to keep him at an arm's length, but it became harder and harder to stick to her decision. She had this soft spot for him, enjoyed his company, and his gentle devotion for her. It didn't help that the fiancé of his son Larry, Amelia Cruikshank, had put the bug in his ear that she supported him in his cause to marry Isobel. It was not only unfair against her, it was also unfair against Dickie to raise his hopes for a happy future, when all Larry and Amelia wanted was to secure their comfortable life. Isobel loathed the idea of being related to them, she hated the thought of living under the same roof with them. She wouldn't sleep a wink, knowing they slept on the same floor only a few doors away. The more she thought about it, the more she wished there was another way of sharing her life with Dickie. One that didn't involve his family and allowed her to stay away from his late wife's home.

A soft chuckle reached her ear and Isobel looked across the table. Prudence Shackleton had placed her hand on Dickie's lower arm and laughed about something that he had just said. The sight of them being so comfortable with each other was a dagger in her heart and painfully aware of how ridiculous she behaved, she looked away. She straightened her back and emptied her glass of wine.

Well, perhaps she didn't have to wonder about living at Cavenham one day after all.

As soon as it was appropriate Isobel left the table to have some time for herself. She escaped into the garden and looked for shelter on the bench under the big tree. The air was warm and smelled of lavender and leisure. She closed her eyes, tried to fight off the vision of Dickie and Prudence enjoying each other's company. Should she do some soul searching to find out why exactly it bothered her to see them together? She had the feeling to examine her feelings could be too reckless for her own good. Every time she had looked over to them she had thought of Violet's tales about the 'Edwardians' and their adventurous habits of sleeping with everyone but their own spouses. Dickie had led a very unhappy marriage, so it wasn't too far fetched to think that he had had his share of lovers over the years. Had Lady Shackleton been one of them? And if so, why shouldn't she be his lover again? Or why shouldn't she pursue Dickie to become the next Lady Merton? After all she was widowed herself and unhappy with her role as Dowager Countess. Dickie was a free after Isobel had refused him repeatedly. He was an attractive, wealthy man with a title and a big estate - and a very kind heart. Too kind for his own good at times.

She sighed. Perhaps it would be best, if Dickie married someone else. Their problems would be resolved and she could move on with her life, without dreaming about what might have been if things had developed differently between them.

"Are you all right?" She hadn't heard him approaching her and startled when his voice reached her ears.

"Of course. I just needed some fresh air," she answered quickly.

"Are you sure?" He didn't seem to believe her and so she did her best to give him a smile.

"Yes, quite sure." She patted the empty spot next to her. "Why don't you sit down?"

Glad for her invitation he sat down next to her. "It's a beautiful place," he said after a moment of taking in the beauty of the garden in front of them.

"It is, but Cavenham Park isn't so bad either," she remarked and remembered her conversation with Amelia. The gardens of Cavenham were beautiful, but she loathed the draughty house, where everything reminded her of Ada.

"Why did you go outside?" he asked, ignoring her remark about his estate.

"As I said, I needed some air."

"Is it because of Henry?" he asked. "Don't tell me, it's an easy day for you."

She was touched by his sentiment, but could easily reassure him. "I like Henry," she said. "Mary deserves to be happy. Matthew wouldn't have wanted for her to be alone for the rest of her life and George needs a father figure in his life."

He nodded and gave her a side glance. "That means something else must have been the reason for your sudden escape," he concluded. "I'm here for you if you need someone to talk to. I cannot guarantee for the quality of my advice, but I'm a good listener."

She bit her lower lip, unsure what to respond. "You shouldn't care so much," she finally said.

He winced and she instantly regretted her words. God, she hated it when she put her foot in her mouth, because she felt the need to protect herself from emotional harm!

"I can't help but to care for you," he said. His voice sounded raw and it broke her heart that she couldn't think of anything to comfort him. "It's in my system like some strange, haunting virus and there's no cure for it."

"Do you care for Henry's aunt?" she asked. The abrupt change of the subject confused him. He gave her a puzzled look. "Prudence Shackleton?"

"Yes. Every time she's in the same room, you're much more interested in her than in anyone else. I wonder why."

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and sighed. "I give up. I don't understand you."

"I think you do," she said.

"I would like to think you're jealous," he said. "Are you?"

"I'm curious." She felt how she blushed. Cursing herself for her former question she added, "You just seem awfully familiar with each other and I think she's looking for a new husband."

"I doubt she's looking for one in me," he said. "She knows I'm not available as long as you walk the earth."

Isobel swallowed hard. "How on earth can she know that?"

"I told her," was his simple answer. He looked at her and shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing to say.

Speechless she tried to digest his answer. "Why would you have this conversation with her?" she asked, once she had found her voice again.

"I'm not sure I want to answer that question," he admitted.

"Please do answer it," she pleaded. After his response she simply had to know what exactly Prudence Shackleton was to him. This was thin ice, very thin ice, but she needed to see, if they could walk it without breaking in.

"Where have you been ten years ago?" he asked.

The question threw her off guard, "That was during the war… I was here, trying to be useful."

"I'm sure you were." He sighed again and looked down to his hands. He played with the ring around his pinky. "Ten years ago I did something I'm not particularly proud of. Lord Shackleton, Hugo, was a good friend of mine since we were together at Eton, but Ada and Prudence didn't get along and so we didn't see each other as often as we wanted to... To make a long story short in 1915 Hugo had a stroke after his son had been declared missing in France. The idea of losing his only child literally crushed him and even after Philip was found alive and returned home, he never recovered. He was a broken man."

Having gone through the same pain with Matthew during the war, she could relate to Hugo's story. She remembered her own fear and the countless, sleepless nights, in which she had wondered about his whereabouts and had prayed for his safety. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I went to see him every now and then, but the damage the stroke had done was quite extensive. Sometimes he didn't even recognize me and on bad days he didn't recognize his own family."

"That must have been hard on you," she said, trying to figure out where his story was leading.

"Not as hard as it was on him or his wife," Dickie said. "Hugo and Prudence had always loved each other very much. I know she doesn't strike one as a someone who's very loving or attentive, but with Hugo she was. His illness devastated her. She became sick… listless… We started a regular correspondence. First about Hugo and as time passed we also discussed other matters. In the following year she and I grew closer and one day one thing led to another..." his voice trailed off.

Isobel closed her eyes. Her worst fears were confirmed and it pained her to think about it.

"How long did you…" she didn't want to finish her question and broke off.

"A few months… I despised myself every time I looked into the mirror, but when you have been as unhappy in a marriage as I was, you seek comfort and we comforted each other - at least for a while." He turned his head to look at her. "Do you hate me now?"

She gently shook her head. "No. I could never hate you. I'm sorry."

"What ever for?"

"For making you uncomfortable. I shouldn't have asked, but…" she shook her head. "The two of you get along so well that it made me wonder. Why don't you ask her to marry you…? I'm sure she wouldn't say no, if you proposed to her."

He contemplated her words and then he said, "Me neither, but as I said, not as long as you walk the earth. I love you, Isobel. You own my heart and you always will."

Her heart swell in her chest and her throat tightened. She felt her tears rising and looked away, hoping he wouldn't notice it. He gently touched her chin and turned her face back to him.

"Please, do marry me!," he pleaded. "Forget Larry and Amelia and everyone else for a moment and think about how much happier we would be together."

"You make it sound so easy!" she replied. The truth was, she was too scared. She was too old to endure constant battles with Larry and Amelia and in the end Dickie would be the one who suffered the most. She loved him too much to expose him to his children's resentment.

She took his hand from her chin and squeezed it tightly. "Look, what I did. I've ruined the wedding for both of us."

"You could never ruin anything for me," he said and led her hand to his mouth. He placed a kiss on the back of hand and the touch of his lips made her shiver. Suddenly she longed for him to kiss her. She envied Prudence Shackleton because she was the one who had had what Isobel was denying herself. If she were a lot braver she would run away with Dickie or offer him to become his lover - anything to be with him, but she wasn't brave enough.

"We should go back inside," she said quietly. He should release her hand, but he didn't. He held it and ran his thumb tenderly over her knuckles.

"I would rather stay here," he admitted.

She had to agree. "I know, but people will wonder what we're doing out here."

He chuckled. "I'm not sure we're that interesting to them."

"How comforting." She joined his laughter. Their eyes locked and suddenly she wasn't sure she really wanted to leave this bench ever again. He leaned in to kiss her just as she had imagined it seconds earlier. She closed her eyes, cupped his cheek with her gloved hand and kissed him back. It had been so long since they had last kissed and it made her realize how much she truly missed - and longed for him. His hand came to rest on her waist. It was the most careful and gentle touch, but it made her blood rage within her veins. She completely lost herself in his kiss until her head was spinning and her body wanted more and ached for his touch on her naked skin. Realizing that she was about to commit something unforgivable, she backed off.

"I need to go now," she said, catching her breath. She rose quickly, her knees were weak and she feared she had to sit down again, but somehow she managed to get to feet.

"I'm sorry," he rose as well and cleared his throat. "I shouldn't have…"

She stepped forward, gently silenced him by placed her hand over his mouth and whispered. "It wasn't your fault. It was me. I encouraged you with my… silly questions. Let's forget it happened. Please!"

He took her hand in his and said. "If that's what you wish for, I'll try to forget it, but it's a trying thing to ask of a man who loves you as much as I do."

"Perhaps you could ask Lady Shackleton for…"

"Don't be mean now," he cut her off. His tone was gentle, but she felt that she had just hurt him again. "Don't leash out at her. It's not her fault either."

"I wanted to say that you shouldn't keep her waiting," she corrected herself.

"She can manage on her own, I'm sure of that." He made a small bow and turned to leave. "Good afternoon, Isobel."

"When will I see you again?" she asked, irritated he was leaving her. He stopped in his tracks. When he turned to her she saw how shaken he was.

"Whenever you want to see me," he answered. "You know where to find me."

"I do," she said and gave him a smile. She wanted to tell him so much more. That she loved him too and that she wanted him to be happy, how much she wanted to find him, but the words were stuck in her throat.

"I'll see you soon," she added. "And please…"

Anticipating whatever she was going to say, he held his breath. "Don't think I'm playing some game with you, because I'm not."

"I guess hearing you say it means something," he said. He smiled back at her and left. She expected him to go back into the Abbey, but he left for the driveway. Feeling as if she had driven him away, she stood under the tree, wondering what she should do next. They couldn't go on like this. What she was putting them both through was pure torture and had to end one way or the other. They deserved better than this. Earlier Violet had said, the ball were in Larry's court, but she was wrong. It was on her to play it. The game was afoot and it was her turn.

_***Fin*** _


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